Page 20 of Seduction of a Psychopomp
“It’s snowing rather heavily.”
I simply watched him, assuming that an unnecessary response might be seen as annoying chatter and he would disappear again. His gaze shifted to the window, and he stepped to the edge of the other end of the window seat, looking down into the courtyard.
“Your bird friends didn’t come today.”
I glanced at him in shock, surprised that he even knew how I felt about them since we’d never discussed it. “No,” I finally responded. “I think they don’t like the snowstorm.”
He nodded, his eyes flickering between me and the ground outside. “Would you like one?”
I stared at him dumbly, not having any idea what he meant.
“A bird,” he clarified. A quick flick of his fingers, and then darkness swirled above the other end of the window seat next to him, like a rolling plume of thick, black smoke, and then immediately settled into the shape of a large, black bird with a shaggy neck.
I flinched backward. One moment there was no bird, and the next there was, just like one of his ever-changing weapons. But the weapons hadn’t been a real, living, blinking bird with shimmery black feathers who cocked his head to look at me. I vaguely remembered his mount, and how I had asked why it didn’t move around. He had replied that it wasn’t real, so this bird must not have been either. But it sure looked real.
Victor’s face was as impassive as always, but his eyes showed a bit of a sparkle in the depths at my reaction. “Or do you prefer dogs?” He turned his other hand over and made a quick motion like he was scooping something from a bowl, and shadows around the edges of the room came together beside him and coalesced into the shape of a large, imposing dog. When its shape solidified, it sat placidly, ears pricked with interest while it looked at me. There wasn’t a speck of color anywhere on its body, just short black fur covering its muscular, menacing build. It reminded me of the dogs that guarded the houses of very wealthy merchants in the cities.
I glanced between the dog and the bird. “Will they hurt me?” I asked.
“Never.” He spoke with absolute certainty, and my anxiety about the animals began to ebb away.
“Does it have a name?” I asked timidly.
“Only if you give it one.”
“Does it like to be petted?” My gaze flickered between Victor and the dog, though the dog simply sat with a loose, interested stance.
“If you would like to pet him,” was Victor’s vague reply. He raised his hand slightly and—like a puppet on a marionette—the dog stood and padded closer to me, with its tongue hanging out to show it was still relaxed. It stood next to me and watched me with soft eyes while I raised my hand and touched the side of its neck, marveling at the warmth and the texture of its fur.
“I don’t understand how it’s not real,” I confessed.
He hesitated a moment before replying. “It isreal,” he said slowly, trying to find the words to explain. “But it’s not a realdog.It’s my magic, so it’s an extension of me. It cannot do anything I don’t want it to do. It doesn’t need to eat, or drink. It has no will of its own.”
I frowned down at the strange creature made of magic, who looked like a dog, and reached out to pet it a little more fully, watching as its tongue lolled further out of the side of its mouth.
“The rate of snowfall concerns me for Helda’s safety,” Victor said, interrupting my thoughts and drawing my attention back to him. “I would like to go to her and pick up our food for the day from her home instead of risking her traveling in this weather, but that would mean I will be away from the keep for a little while. Would you be okay with that if you have these to watch over you while I’m away?” He gestured to the creatures he’d created from the shadows.
“Of course,” I told him. If he said they wouldn’t hurt me, then I trusted him, and I thought it was endearing that he worried so much about the elderly cook.
“If you want them to leave, just tell them so and they will,” he told me as he stepped away and left the room.
The dog turned its head to watch him go, but the bird hopped down the padded bench and settled in next to my thigh, pressing its little head under my hand for petting. As soon as Victor was out of the room, the dog stepped forward and plopped its heavy head in my lap, looking up at me with soulful eyes. I chuckled at the little magical beasties—whatever they were, they still solicited affection just like a real pet.
I wondered at his purpose in creating these for me. How long would they last? But at the moment, I found I simply enjoyed sitting with them and stroking them and enjoying their company.
Chapter 13
Celeste
Oneofthedownsidesof feeling better and not needing to sleep as much, or as deeply, was that I started waking up in the middle of the night. Waking up alone in a pitch-black room felt too close to being trapped in my own mind with no one but myself to keep me company. Tonight, when it happened, I sat up in the bed gasping, thinking I was unconscious and needed to fight my way awake again. Not for the first time, I wished I’d been brave enough to ask Victor to make his dog again. Then even if he wouldn’t stay with me, at least I’d have some of his magic.
Both the bird and the dog had vanished into thin air without warning shortly before he arrived back at Sorrow’s Keep with a few days’ worth of food for us. I’d been startled at the instantaneous departure of the creatures he’d created. I didn’t know how they worked or how he controlled them or why they would have disappeared. It had felt good to keep a little piece of him with me while he was gone, but I had to wonder how much of them actuallywere him, as he had stated. The dog’s goofy smile and wagging tail as I stroked its fur didn’t seem particularly Victor-like to me.
I lay in bed, feeling the painful ache of loneliness settle deep in my bones. I didnotwant to go home to my family, not before giving this a real try with Victor, but I couldn’t help feeling sad at the thought that maybe this was the extent of our “marriage.” Maybe he felt like I was only my illness and he was merely my caretaker. He’d never known me as anything but a sick person. He hadn’t known me before my health had inexplicably begun deteriorating and my magic had been lost to me because my immune system was destroying my organs. He didn’t know how big of a deal it was that I could change my form again or get up and move around the room on my own. Even my own family, who had known me all my life, had begun to treat me as if this diseased version of me was all that existed. My brother, the first born, was the crown prince, the one all our hopes were pinned on. My older sister, beautiful and able-bodied, kind and brave, was the one who would secure the most promising marriage arrangement, whether for trading or an alliance or some other political gain. My younger sister hadn’t survived, so my family was no stranger to grief. But me, I was the sick sibling. The one they were just grateful was still alive. The one they stressed over and worried about.
I wanted more than that for my marriage. Ineededmore than that moving forward. And Victor had told me to always ask for what I need. I didn’t know what to ask for most of the time, but I decided right now I needed that big, warm, scary-looking dog who wanted my affection. Even if it wasn’t real. After a few deep breaths to gather my courage, I slipped out from under the covers and lowered my feet to the thick woolen rug. The fire had burned almost completely out, which explained the darkness, but the room was still warm enough to be comfortable in my shift. I raised my hand, palm up, in front of me and focused my magic in it. Relief coursed through me when a small fae light fluoresced above my palm, just enough to illuminate the stone walls around me with a pale, soft glow. It had been so long.
Even with my little fae light pressing back against the darkness, the halls felt tomblike as I wandered down them all alone. Victor had told me this small castle had been cut into the side of the mountain and I could feel it in the cold stones and damp air. Even though I knew there were windows overlooking the ice-clogged strait, the rock walls were so thick it felt like we were below ground. Shadows above me clung to the vaulted ceilings of the hall in a way that didn’t seem natural. I didn’t know the layout yet or where he might be, so I tip-toed from room to room, peeking into the cavernous spaces and trying not to get lost. At one point, I found my way to the landing of a staircase, but I couldn’t convince myself to descend into the inky blackness, though it most certainly led to the kitchens, or perhaps a root cellar, and not some dungeon as I imagined. I shivered uncomfortably at the thought and turned back to explore the other end of the keep.
